DISCLAIMER: Trigun and its characters belong to Yasuhiro Nightow.

Chasing Meryl

Something shimmered into being out of the horizon haze. His legs moved him toward it, more out of habit of repetitive motion now than any commands he gave them. He had had the left…right…left…right cadence in his head so long now that he doubted he could stop moving if he wanted.

A normal man would be dead by now. He felt like he was over halfway there. His clothes had been dark when he started this trek; now, the color was partially sunbleached out, salt stains evidence of where the last of his sweat had dried. He couldn't open his mouth because it was too dry, lips too chapped – felt like his tongue was on flypaper. His eyes had run out of the needed moisture that tears provided, just felt like they were being burned from inside out. If this thing shimmering on the horizon wasn't his goal at last, he might very well die, letting her down just one last time.

He was tired of letting her down. She had followed him for so long, stayed behind this time only because it was absolutely necessary. She was waiting patiently for him to come back to her.

Stupid fool that he was, taking so long to see what was right in front of him the whole time. Always running away, pushing her away. Always letting her down.

He wouldn't let her down again. Not ever again. He had to keep going.

Please, God, let this be the real thing. I can't take any more mirages. Let this be real, so I can make it back to her.

He marched forward, carrying the heavy burden that was his brother. His brother, whom he had to save. It was a daunting task; with her help, though, he could do it.

He smiled, pushing forward. She would slap him for taking so long, then hug and kiss him. That was what kept him going at this moment, the thought of being reunited with her. No matter how dry he was, she was his water.

Each step brought him closer. Slowly, meter by meter, the thing on the horizon took form. Grew. Began to look like what it was – a little village. The place he was returning to. It held the woman he was returning to.

His forced march brought him into the center of the village itself. He paid no heed to the wondrous stares of the people who gawked at the man that had walked in from the barren desert where only scorching heat was king. He walked to the well, where he hoped she would be.

His vision blurred as he approached, growing dim. Had to stay on his feet…for her…

He heard a voice yell, "Mr. Vash!" right before he hit the ground.

As the big woman came to give him aid and much-needed water, Vash the Stampede managed to force his mouth open and croak out one word before passing into unconsciousness.

"Meryl…"